


Out of all people throughout time and space, it had to be you

by MissFlashBrightside



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Alternate Universe - Doctor Who Fusion, F/M, Jane is a Time Lord, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:27:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26955085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissFlashBrightside/pseuds/MissFlashBrightside
Summary: When Teresa opened her door on that cold Californian winter morning, she wasn't expecting the turn her life would take.Time Lord!Jane and Companion!Lisbon
Relationships: Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon
Comments: 16
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all, 
> 
> As always, English is not my mother language and this was just an insane dream. Maybe there's more coming.

Free days shouldn’t start at 7 AM with a wheezing sound. That was not how Teresa wanted her Sunday morning to go. Rolling out of her bed, her raven hair all tousled up, the CBI agent could only think of the reason behind why she was being punished after barely sleeping the whole week long because of a high-end case.

“Fuck off!” Escaped her mouth as she looked through the peephole and saw a weird phone box that she was sure hadn’t been there the day before. Teresa barely had the time to step away from the door and get past her initial shock state when someone started to bang on her door loud enough to wake the entire neighborhood. “Calm down! I’m already here!”

Without looking at the table beside her door, she fished her keys from the bowl it had been and fumbled with it for a while then manage to put it in the lock and open the door. Every ounce of sleepy haze slipped away from her mind and not because of the cold breeze coming from the outside and touching her bare legs, but because she was met with the prettiest green-blueish eyes she had ever seen.

The man in front of her was probably a foot taller than her and looked dashing, a giant smile on his beautiful rosy lips that could light up a whole city. His golden curls shone like a Californian summer and his skin was just the right shade of tanned like Apolo himself had come down to Sacramento and kissed him softly. She wouldn’t start on the way his chest filled the gray vest he was wearing. It was positively sinful. Not to mention his graffiti suit and light blue shirt with the two buttons open.

“Hey there,” The man opened his perfect lips, and oh, Teresa could’ve kissed them all day long. “I’m The Mentalist and I have no time to explain what is going on, but if you have a computer I need to use it right now or we both are going to die.”

Her law enforcement reflexes kicked in that very second, mapping the shortest route to her gun in the glove compartment of her car in the parking lot. “What happened, sir? You know who’s after you? I’m a CBI senior agent, You’re safe.”

“CBI? That still exists?” He rose an eyebrow at her, looking genuinely curious, which was funny because the CBI was a solid institution respected all over California.

“Who are you and what are you talking about?” She asked, frowning.

“Wrong question! But shortly,” The said mentalist decided he wouldn’t stay outside, and without touching her, he walked past Teresa into her condo. She was too shocked to even move. “The cops that are not cops are chasing my signal.” He stopped abruptly in the middle of her living room and turned to look at her still froze in place. “You might want to close that door.”

“Sir, what is going on here?” Teresa tried to sound comforting, people in danger usually needed that, but he sounded like a mad man and she was beyond confused as to why she left him in instead of kicking his ass out. She blamed his gorgeous face and the fact she hadn’t had her coffee.

“I’ve explained that already, Teresa,” The blonde man answered, dropping to her couch with a cheeky grin.

This was beyond acceptable. Who was this man and how did he know her name? He was handsome, but none of that was cutting with her. “How do you know my name and who said you could stay?”

The Mentalist’s grin turned into his initial megawatt smile once more and his eyes shone even brighter. “A magician never reveals his tricks. You, humans, are all so curious.”

Out of everything Teresa Lisbon hated, not knowing what was going on was by far the worst thing on her list, right next to stupid men who thought she wasn’t strong for her size. She was getting ready to tell the man to fuck off and get out of her home, handsome or not when he interrupted her trail of thoughts.

“We could chat more, you have a fascinating mind, but then we would die and I don’t think you like to die like that,” He made a vague hand gesture in her direction. “Not that I’d mind, you look lovely in your tank-top and undies. Sexy even.”

Teresa shot a quick glance at her white spaghetti-strap tank top and her black tanga. It certainly looked good, her toned legs in display and her nipples poking through the thin cloth, but she shouldn’t have answered the door like that. She had reacted to the sounds that woke her up and didn’t even remember putting on acceptable clothes. With warm spreading down to her cheeks and making them red, the agent ran upstairs to her bedroom to cover herself and also retrieve her Glock, for she would shoot that lunatic if he tried to rob her. Scratch that, she’d shoot the lunatic and point.

When she came back down dressed more appropriately in dark skinny jeans and a sports bra underneath a burgundy low v neck sweater, the blonde man was sitting at the same spot he had been, but this time his legs were up on her coffee table, he had her laptop on his lap, typing fast with one hand and a mug of Lord only knew what on his other. How was he even on her computer?

“I-I-I is that-.”

“Your laptop? Yes. Chicago Bears is not a very smart password and you’ve been broadcasting your thoughts loud and clear. Humans usually don’t do that,” He offered with a shrug and the disdain on his face was enough to make her blood boil, for a second she had to stop her hands from reaching the holster in her belt. “No guns needed. I’m on the good side. Most of the time.”

He wasn’t even making sense.

“Out of all the things I could ask,” Teresa walked towards the mentalist, stopping short before standing in front of him, but he didn’t look up, eyes still on her laptop and taking a sip of the green liquid she could see now. “The first thing I want to know is: I was gone for three minutes at most. How did you manage to find my laptop, discover my password, and make yourself a cup of... what is it? Tea?”

“Nice question,” The mentalist looked up briefly, but he seemed pleasantly surprised by her question before lowering his eyes again. “And the answer to that is simple: I’m the cleverest man who’s ever walked on Earth.”

“And the humblest too.” She mumbled running her hands through her hair and tying it in a loose bun.

That had to be some sort of joke. Mind reading was not real and yet, that weird, alluring man knew exactly where to find her stuff, her name and- God, She had completely forgot he knew her name.

“Naw. No need for that. I really am the cleverest man alive, why would I lie about that?” Then he frowned, took another sip of his tea, and with a final tap he looked up and closed her laptop. “We’re not dying anymore, but I’m pretty sure they’re still coming, so heads up.”

“Would you care to explain what the hell is going on before I shoot you?” The man was starting to get under Teresa’s skin and it was definitely not a good feeling.

“What you want to know?”

“First of all, who are you?” Teresa asked again sitting on the chair across the couch the mentalist was on.

“Told you, I’m the Mentalist,” He stated once more, but this time he was smiling so sweetly at her she had to fight her on facial muscles not to smile back.

“That’s not a name.”

“Oh, trust me, you wouldn’t be able to say my name,” The mentalist took his final sip and deposited the mug on her table. “No, don’t do that. I’m not diminishing you, you really can’t; it’s not an English name. You’re broadcasting again.”

“What do you mean by broadcasting?” She shifted on her seat uncomfortable.

“Oh, good one! From time to time you humans can be splendid. I-.”

“You humans?” She toyed with her cross. This one was going straight to the psychiatric wing. “Last time I checked we're all humans.”

"Eh," He even seemed disgusted by the very thought. "Typical human mistake."

"Mr.-," Teresa shook her head remembering she still didn't know his name. "Mentalist?! What have you been using? I need to know in case I have to call the paramedics."

"What?! I'm not high! Not sure I can." The mentalist said with a pout, and for a second Teresa almost forgot she was royally pissed off, an urge of erasing that pout with kisses burning in her veins. What was wrong with her? "Ok, here we go. I'm the Mentalist, one of the three Time Lords alive. I'm from Gallifrey, a planet of the constellation of Kasterborous. I'm not crazy, nor human and my-my agent, I know this version of me is really good looking, but can you please stop thinking about kissing me that loud? I wasn't pouting, woman."

"What? I'm not,-!" Teresa was so red now she could almost taste her embarrassment. How was he doing that and what was wrong with him?

The only possible answer to that was that he was incredibly good at reading her. A couple years ago the FBI had sent a profiler to help with a case and he had found out where her and her team were from in twenty minutes with them. She knew that type of stuff was possible, but why her? The agent could think of now reason as to why someone would go to such lengths to torture her on her free day.

"Oh, Teresa, dear, you really are interesting," He crossed his legs and intertwined his fingers, resting them on his lap. "You caught me; cold reading is indeed a part of what I'm doing here. I'm a great observer and you are relatively easy to pick. Your password was as a give as your name was. Your badge is on the desk by the door and there's a Chicago Bears' pennant on your wall, so you could call it an educated guess. But there's some mind reading too, I'm afraid. You see, some species are capable of broadcasting their thoughts. Humans, such as yourself, are not one of those, you seem to be one of the very few exceptions. My species is what you'd call mind sensitive, we can sense those broadcasts, almost like mind reading."

Not once in her life time Teresa had known shock like that. She was speechless. He had to be sick. "Are you saying, you're reading my mind?"

Suddenly she was on her feet, furious. This was not what she meant when she prayed for something good and unexpected to walk into her life. She meant a new boyfriend or a promotion, not a crazy man claiming he was an alien who was so good at reading people he could pass as a psychic.

"For Rassilon, I can't read your mind!" He stood up too, furrowing his eyebrows at her. "I said almost not that I could. Your mind is not a book I can open and read. Well, actually, I could," Then he shook his head as if he was trying to shake away bad memories. "Trust me, not a good experience. Not the case though. You can't do that on earth. Not at least till the 33rd century. Why would you call 911?"

His head was slightly inclined to the left and the sun coming through the window made him look so innocent and honest, she'd be in danger if she couldn't see right through his act. Someone from the office had sent him there because they remembered it would be her 15th year anniversary with the CBI. Rigsby if she had to bet. He had outdone the stripper.

"GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE BEFORE I SHOOT YOU!" The agent was yelling now and moving around, trying to find where the cameras were hidden. "I don't know how much they paid you for this. But this is not funny. I had a tough week and it's not even 8 in the morning. 

"Stop!" Teresa felt a hand on her shoulder and didn't even think before reacting, elbowing his ribs precisely and using the moment he stepped away in pain to turn around and punch him on the nose.

It almost made her feel bad, seeing him stumbling and falling. Almost. As he looked at her in horror, her gun drawn and pointed at him, Teresa was glad she could pay him back for waking her up that early with the entire alien act.

"Don't shoot!" His voice was muffled by his hand covering his nose and mouth. That must have hurt, she thought pleased with herself. "Please don't. There's a way to prove everything I said. Just touch my chest. Both sides."

"And risk not having you at my gun point? I don't think so," Teresa answered through gritted teeth.

"Look, I wouldn't even know what to do with a gun, they're not my thing," The mentalist retrieved one of his hands from his nose and raised it in a rendition gesture. "Please, I know you don't know me, but I know you're a good person, Teresa. Trust me with this. If I'm lying you'll see I'm human and you can punch my throat and hurt me some more. I'll go to the psychiatric wing. Hell, I'll even call 911 myself."

Well, she could draw this or she could end his bullshit quick. Rigsby, Cho and Grace were probably awaiting outside the door to barge in as soon as the hidden camera on him caught her finally giving in.

After putting her gun back in the holster, she extended her hands to touch both sides of his chest. He was warm and solid through his soft clothes and he made no movement to lean away from her touch or to threaten her. So she awaited for the initial heartbeat and…

No… that couldn't be possible. 

Were those-? Were those really two separate heartbeats?


	2. Napa, The Planet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuing from where I've left...

If someone said, "Teresa, one Saturday morning you will wake up with a gorgeous man who claims he's an alien knocking on your door. Oh, he also has two hearts and really does belong to an extraterrestrial species," She would have rolled her eyes and told the person that joke was stupid.

Yet, here she was, her arms wrapped around herself and hyperventilating over what she had just found out.

Aliens were real.

"You're- you're- you're,-" The raven-haired woman tried but the words were stuck on her throat no way of getting out. She was still staring, wide-eyed, the blonde man on the floor rubbing his sore nose.

"Not human?" He offered and when she nodded, he shook his head. "No. You, humans, are always so shocked when you find out you're not alone. And unnecessarily mean even though you are not old enough to be bitter."

"Not old enough?" Teresa started walking backward, unable to stay close to him any more till her back hit her living room wall beside her TV. All the things she had heard about aliens, all of them, so wrong. They were not green-grayish, with big heads, even bigger eyes, and small bodies. Apparently, they looked like human beings, were condescending, and lived much more than regular people did.

"Definitely," The Mentalist started to get up. "You think living 80 years is hard? Try having your cells regenerating into new ones when you are about to die. New body, same old person." He moved to her couch and took a place there once more.

Her voice was nothing more than a whisper when she finally gave up and slid to the floor, trembling harder than she could ever remember doing before. "How old are you?"

This had to be real life, her mind was not that creative. Her dreams were always about real-life events if she dreamed at all. _Why?_ She asked God silently, closing her eyes trying to breathe to calm herself. Who in the world would've believed if she said she had been momentarily attracted to a 5000 years-old man with two hearts.

"Rassilon no," The Mentalist frowned. "I'm not 5000 years old. At least not yet. This is the 5th version of me and it's currently 369, but I'm 1987. And thank you, dear. Your thoughts are boosting my ego, you're a beautiful woman too."

Her eyes went wide again and she could feel her heart speeding, her breath coming out in hard puffs. "Can you stop reading me?"

It was too much. 

"The Doctor always tells me humans don't like it," He mumbled more like he was talking to himself, ignoring her there. "Well, I'm sorry, Teresa."

40 minutes ago she was a happy woman, sleeping and completely unaware of the existence of aliens. And now… now there was one on her couch, looking at her like she was a fascinating creature and he couldn't wait to find out everything there was to know about her. 

"Doctor who?"

He bit his lip to prevent himself from laughing, almost as if there was a joke somewhere in her question, but she didn't know where. "Another Time Lord."

Defeated and knowing he'd probably keep giving answers as if she could understand everything he said, Teresa decided to try one last time, for no word that came out of his mouth made sense at all.

"Why are you here?" She raised her head to look at him once more, starting to accept that was her life and it had changed for real. 

Crossing his legs, The Mentalist looked at her, not even trying to conceal the annoyance at the repetitive question. "I have this amazing ship, we call them TARDIS and it flies me across time and space," That morning couldn't get any weirder. "The problem is, my signal was tracked by a group of people who really hate me. The Doctor was able to figure out what was going on and told me someone was looking for me. I had this feeling they'd be disguised as humans if he couldn't find out exactly who they were, but he was talking about missing Rose again and, in the end, I didn't listen to anything he said. This version of him uses his bushy eyebrows to scare people away so no one sees he's hurt. It's really annoying,-."

"Cut it, ok? You're babbling," Teresa buried her head in her hands, massaging her forehead to prevent the headache she could feel coming. "You're running. Got it. The Doctor. Another Time Lord and one who's missing a girl. Got it too. Still haven't told me why you're here."

"I was getting there when you so rudely interrupted me," The blond alien added, his tone so light and unbothered, that it made the agent want to punch his gorgeous face once more, but she kept her eyes closed and didn't give him the pleasure of seeing her expressions contorted in rage. He could probably listen to her anyway. "I truly am the cleverest man on earth. So I tracked two old companions of mine, Pete and Sam and they said two CIA agents asked them about me and showed them the picture of the old me, the one that was addicted to gambling. I was trying to get to my later companion's place, I know he lives here in Sacramento somewhere. but maybe I got Mashburn's coordinates wrong."

Her eyes shot open and she looked up at him so quickly she got dizzy. "Mashburn as in Walter Mashburn?"

"Yeah, wh-" His eyes that had been trained on her suddenly acquired a spark that told her he knew exactly how she knew Walter. Her cheeks immediately got hot and she forced herself to look away from him, who didn't move, just kept staring at her with an eyebrow raised and his lips pressed in a thin line. "Guess we can't account you for taste. Mashburn, Teresa? And here I was, thinking, hey, this sexy woman is really into me, maybe I should take her out to have dinner with me in Napa. Planet Napa, not Napa county."

"Told you to stop reading-," Teresa started to yell, but then her mind caught up to the rest of the sentence. "Are you asking me out?"

A knock on her door interrupted them before she could be sure. "I'll answer," The Mentalist said, taking off and all she could do was stand up and turn to face the door, in shock with how quick and volatile this man's mind was.

There was a second filled with tense silence in which all Teresa could think of was ' _why the hell me?'_ But then he opened the door and she could partially see two men in black suits. The taller of them was almost bald, had a pair of dark aviator sunglasses on, and looked very elegant, but stood behind the one who was just a little taller than The Mentalist, with his dirty blonde hair neatly combed to the right.

"Good morning, Mr-?" The blonde man with curious blue eyes asked.

"Jane. Patrick Jane," The Mentalist offered.

 _What the fuck was that?_ Teresa thought, annoyed into moving. If he had started their conversation by telling her his name was Patrick Jane things would have gone so much smoother than with that Mentalist bullshit.

She stopped in between Jane and the two men, crossing her arms in front of her chest and assuming a defensive stance. Now with the Alien behind her, she could take a proper look at them. The one in front of her seemed to be about her age, but so did Jane, she thought, deciding to stick with the name instead of thinking of him as The Mentalist. He was around 6 feet tall and had this creepy air about himself she couldn't explain. The one behind him was probably 3 inches taller than him but looked more like a politician than a CIA agent, which made the CBI senior agent wary of him immediately. 

"Is this going to take long? My girlfriend and I were about to head out to grab breakfast," Jane actually sounded bummed, but Teresa got stuck on the word girlfriend. _What did he think he was doing?_

"Girlfriend, Patrick?" She turned her head sideways, to shoot him an inquisitive brow. The only reason she used the first name he offered was that, somehow, her instincts were telling her the men in front of them were exactly who Jane said they were. Guys willing to kill them at first slip. And if her instincts had kept her alive before, then she should trust them.

"Would you rather lover, Teresa?" Jane gave her a smirk full of mischief before placing a hand on her waist and pulling her closer to nuzzle the hair just above her ear. "Please, play along." He murmured barely loud enough for her to listen over the sound of her heartbeat ringing in her ears.

Ok, she had to give in. He was handsome and if he were just a random man she met at a bar, she would probably hit on him. But he was a fucking alien and that was a life or death situation and _God, what was her life even_? As soon as that thought crossed her mind, the son of a bitch had the audacity of snorting, even if he attempted to hide it. His body was glued to her back and his lips were still touching her hair, of course, she would notice.

'Just stop reading my mind, ok?' She thought with all her might, knowing it wouldn't escape him, but made herself relax against his touch. "Just didn't know we were there yet."

It was hard for her to get into the game. For starters, she was not a good actress in her right mind. After all, she had found out in the last hour, her acting skills had gone to hell. Add that to the fact that her skin was getting warmer with each passing second as a result of the proximity of what her body seemed to deem as a handsome man and his hand caressing her waist through her sweater's cloth didn't help at all, and one could say her performance was lacking enthusiasm. 

"Excuse me?" The politician man demanded their attention and Teresa turned back at them, but stood in Jane's arms.

"Yes, sir," Jane answered for them and Teresa was glad, for she didn't know if her voice would even come out. The scent of him and the way it surrounded her should be a crime. No one should smell like that. Sandalwood and the beach right after a storm. Mouthwatering. "How can we help you?"

God help her, she wanted to mount that man until both of his hearts stopped and he had to regenerate into a whole new being while she wore his scent around for the weeks to come.

 _That's vivid…_ She heard what felt like Jane's voice, except it was only inside her head. The agent would have jumped at the unexpected intrusion, but his hand on her waist kept her grounded and the danger of their situation kept her features schooled. Shit, not only had him seen the outrageous image her mind offered, but he also called her out on it. Was she going to sport a permanent blush for the rest of her life?

"I'm Deputy Director Bertram and this is Special Agent Haffner, we're with the CIA," They quickly showed their id's and Teresa almost felt compelled to believe them, but something was just off, as if they didn't inspire the same feeling agents of the law did. That and also the fact Jane had told her they were aliens. He hadn't lie about not being human, why would he lie about them?

"We are going around the neighborhood and asking everyone if you seen this man," Agent Haffner showed them a picture of a tall man, blonde hair slowly going gray in a short-sleeved blue button-up and khaki pants. He seemed content with a large amount of cash in his hands, oblivious to the fact someone was taking pictures of him.

"No," Jane's answer was short. Were her on the other side she would've believed him immediately, for people who weren't lying kept their answers short worded. "You darling?"

"Me neither," That technically wasn't a lie. 

"Ok," Haffner sounded disappointed, but folded the picture and put it back in his jacket's pocket. "Just one more question. Have you heard a wheezing sound or anything weird around your neighborhood?"

Jane snorted openly at that and wrapped his other arm around her waist as well, fully hugging her from behind, while nuzzling her hair. "It's Sacramento, agent. We hear weird noises every time. But my girlfriend is a special agent for the CBI, if anything was out of place around here, she would have scared them away."

The worst part was that the image was appealing to her softer side. Having a boyfriend living with her, sharing a place and him being ok with her taking the lead role in the relationship. God. She was getting old.

Both agent Haffner and Director Bertram thanked them and left looking disgusted at the pair. As soon as they were out of sight Jane let her go and she felt somewhat bereft, but hey, she never liked people touching her anyway, right?

"Grab your wallet, close the door and follow me." He said stepping away from her and out of her house.

For some reason beyond her human mind, Teresa found herself doing exactly what he told her to do. Could be that she was really curious to learn more about him and the whole Space and time-traveling thing. But maybe, and that maybe was winning by a lot, it could be that she just wanted to know why he had held her that close.

"They were from a small and yet violent planet named Alwynn, Quadrant 4 of the Red John Nebula. I know them. Helped their slaves to run away. Had the displeasure of running into Director Bertram multiple times, even though I know him as commander Gale. He's one of the heads of an evil association. Blake association they call themselves. After the real William Blake, not the earth one."

Teresa's head was swimming by that point. She had followed him till they were in front of the closed doors of the out of place phone box. There was something wrong with her. This had to be a hallucination. She got shot and this was her coma induced dream state. It made sense, her mind was craving for some fantasy, something different from all the horror she got to experience in first hand.

"You're not in a coma," Jane interrupted her musings once more. This time only his head was poking through the door of the box and he had this childish grin on his lips, making him look like a boy who was about to do something really naughty. "Come on, Teresa, live a little. Get in here!"

"Here?" The agent frowned looking at the phone box. He couldn't possibly want her to get into that tiny box with him.

"I owe you a trip after I've made you so uncomfortable by seeing you in your undies, bashing into your house, stealing your computer, picking your broadcastings, forcing you to pretend to be my girlfriend and seeing the dirty things you want to do to me," He positively beamed at the final reason, making Teresa wish a hole opened on the ground and swallow her whole. "But I do have to add, I wouldn't have gotten so close if they weren't bothered by PDA. Wyanns are very strict when it comes to sexual intercourse. Only married people can engage in it and only with the male taking the female from behind. Not really made for fun."

An image of Jane stark naked, thrusting into her from behind, a hand pulling her hair and the other slapping her ass as she screamed in pleasure assaulted her mind and hell, she could see the fun in that.

"Oh for Rassilon's sake," He hissed in discomfort. "Can you please step inside the TARDIS, she'll help shield your thoughts. That was so much clearer than the last one Teresa."

With that, he disappeared inside the box and she made the split-second decision of following him inside, her own discomfort showing on her face. Anything to get him out of her mind.

But oh, if she didn't bite more than she could swallow. 

Instead of a tiny box where they would both be so close, they would be forced to share the same breath, Teresa found herself in a huge room, much bigger on the inside than on the outside, with a console glowing light blue in the center of it. Above the console, she could see what could only be described as roundy plates with some sort of circular pattern engraved on it.

But none of those out of the world things were what astonished the woman the most. No, what got her was the pleasant hum in the back of her mind, as if something was trying to talk directly to her. 

"HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!" Teresa screamed in shock, her eyes wide and mouth opened in a perfect 'o'. It took her a while, but it was clear as the day the ship was the one trying to talk to her. She didn't register Jane moving across the console room and laying on a brown leather couch just to the left of the console or the door closing by itself behind her.

"Go on," The blonde man's voice snapped her out of her initial stupor and forced her to look at him, all smiles on his couch. "Say it."

As the ship hummed in her head, Teresa moved towards the console and ran a hand through its smooth and cold metal surface. "Say what?"

"Come on, you know you want to." Jane made a circular motion with his right hand, signaling the size of the room. "The whole it's bigger on the inside thing. Everyone does."

"Why? It's kinda obvious,-" Teresa was going to say she wasn't stupid, but then the blonde man was standing up, jogging to her side and talking to the console. 

"NO! She's not my pet." Jane flicked a knob and it hurried to life, giving her no time to ask what the hell was that. "To Napa, the planet, my dear. Yes, she's really pretty and no, you can't have her as your pet… Oh, for Rassilon's sake, Charlie. Teresa is the one who decides if she wants to stay."

Then it finally dawned on her.

"You understand her hummings," And as the blonde man hid a proud smile, Teresa faced the glowing tube of the console and muttered, "I'm not his pet, nor yours, ok? I'm no one's pet."

And at that, Jane patted the console fondly and said, "I'm definitely keeping her."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it!

**Author's Note:**

> Ta da! This was how they met!


End file.
